"Z, can you– he... please I just really need you," your voice cracked, cheek pressed hot against the screen of your phone.
"Y/N, babe what happened? I'm already leaving," Zendaya questioned, rushing over her place in a flurry, beyond worried by how broken your voice sounded over the phone. The muffled sound of your cries filled her ear, sending another jolt of fear through her heart.
"It's Tigger, I just came home and he was just laying there and I tried— I tried everything Z I don't know how it even happened," you cried, chin trembling as you quickly pressed your sweaty palm over your mouth to silence your sobs. Her heart broke at your words, feeling not only sorry for you but loss for Tigger, the most adorable cat she'd grown close to as well over the course of your relationship. Tears pooled in her eyes, flashing to memories of playdates with her dog Noon and Tigger, the way they'd chase each other around the living room carpet while you snuggled together under a pile of blankets.
"No... don't cry pretty girl I'll be there soon, okay?" she cooed, already formulating the perfect plan in her mind to lift your spirits. You sniffled back a quiet 'okay' and hung up while Zendaya hustled around, shoving items in her bag along with an extra surprise.
Only minutes later, Daya burst into your apartment, eyes falling on you laying on the floor unmoving next to Tigger, still holding onto his paw. She slowly set down her bag, holding onto a leash, Noon running up to your side to cover your face in licks. You couldn't hold back a small smile at his eagerness and her thoughtfulness. She soon followed after him, sprawling on the floor next to you as she pulled your body close into hers. Her arms wrapped around your shoulders gently, and you buried your face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her sweet cinnamon scent. Minutes ticked by, the steady thump of her heart and the slow rise and fall of her chest calmed your nervous panic.
Zendaya ran her fingers through your hair, knowing you loved the feeling, that it soothed you, and your eyelashes fluttered shut at the tenderness of her touch. She leaned in to press soft, full kisses to your forehead , leaving a trace of blush pink lipstick on your skin. Your mouth turned up in a smile, pride and relief waved through her that she could comfort you in your time of need. She always made sure to treat you like a queen, a firm believer that all relationships should be equal in that sense.
"Okay, I think I have something else that will cheer you up," she shook you awake, hoping you would appreciate her idea. You perked up, nodding for her to continue. Lacing her fingers between yours, she stood to her feet, dragging you up with her.
"Close your eyes, okay?" she whispered, grabbing your hands and placing them over your eyes, nervous excitement bounced off the two of you.
"Open!" she yelled, whipping out a bag of cookie mix, and you had to stifle your laughs to not make her feel bad.
"What? Chocolate-chip cookies are your favorite comfort food!" she whined, feeling like an idiot that she thought it would lift your mood. You stepped forward to squeeze her hand, giggles still escaping your lips, putting a smile on her face as well.
"No, Z it's not that, it's just... you can't cook, remember?" you smiled, a shocked, over-exaggerated gasp flew from her lips. She marched into the kitchen, dragging you along with her, searching through the cupboards for materials.
"Where the hell do you keep the eggs!" she half-laughed, growing a little frustrated as you held back another laugh. Not answering, you sarcastically walked up to the fridge, dramatically gesturing for her to open it. Scowling, she rolled her eyes, snatching the carton out.
You watched in amusement as she managed to get half the dough on her clothes and the counter, until she had a pan of roughly-shaped spheres randomly spaced together. Shoving it in the oven, she turned back to face you, annoyed at the smirk everpresent on your lips.
"Did you set a timer?" you sneered, and she flipped you off, moving closer to you.
"I can smell when they're done," she pushed off the subject, now right in front of you, leaving little space between you. Her hands snaked around your waist, lifting you up to rest on top of the counter. You leaned forward, cupping her chin in your hands as your lips met hers, a happy contentment you hadn't felt in a while filling your chest. Daya nonchalantly slipped a hand behind you, reaching for something but you didn't really focus on that, until she cracked an egg against the top of your head. Gooey yolk oozed down your forehead, little pieces of white eggshells caught in your messy strands.
"You're going to pay for that!" you screamed, jumping off the counter to tackle her to the floor. Rolling over, she got the upper hand but you wrestled out from under her, reaching for the carton of eggs with both hands. Grabbing as many as you could in the palms of your hands, you threw all of them at her chest at once and they splattered against her knit sweater. Egg whites dripped down to the floor, but it didn't phase her. She grinned a wide tooth smile, and ran up to hug you, sharing the stickiness with you as if you would appreciate it.
The bitter smell of burnt cookies dispersed through the kitchen, Zendaya's face turned pale as she noticed. Flinging open the oven, she quickly pulled out the tray, a sling of curse words accompanied her movements. The cookies were charred black, looking like mini-hockey pucks stuck to the metal. Her shoulders dropped in disappointment, sad she failed at the one thing she aimed to do to cheer you up. Little did she know that she had already accomplished that the moment she stepped in the door.
You rubbed a hand up and down her back, pulling her into you despite the fact you both were sticky and messy.
"Don't feel bad, Z, it's the thought that counts."
